The Collected Longer Poems of Kenneth Rexroth

by Kenneth Rexroth

This is a companion volume to the Collected Shorter Poems of Kenneth Rexroth which was published in 1967. All of the long poems written over the past forty years are included: The Homestead Called Damascus (1920-25), A Prolegomenon to a Theodicy (1925-27), The Phoenix and the Tortoise (1940-44), The Dragon and the Unicorn (1944-50) and The Heart's Garden, The Garden's Heart (1967-68).
As we read the long poems together and in sequence we can see that
Rexroth is a philosophical poet of consequence who offers us a
comprehensive system of values based on the realization of the ethical
mysticism of universal responsibility. He is concerned, above all, with
process: the movement from the Dual to the Other. "I have tried,"
Rexroth writes," to embody in verse the belief that the only valid
conservation of value lies in the assumption of unlimited liability, the
supernatural identification of the self with the tragic unity of
creative process. I hope I have made it clear that the self does not do
this by an act of will, by sheer assertion. He who would save his life
must lose it."

Genres: Poetry

307 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1968

About the author

Kenneth Rexroth was an American poet, translator, and critical essayist.

He is regarded as a central figure in the San Francisco Renaissance, and paved the groundwork for the movement. Although he did not consider himself to be a Beat poet, and disliked the association, he was dubbed the "Father of the Beats" by Time magazine.

Largely self-educated, Rexroth learned several languages and translated poems from Chinese, French, Spanish, and Japanese. He was among the first poets in the United States to explore traditional Japanese poetic themes and forms.

Rexroth died in Santa Barbara, California, on June 6, 1982. He had spent his final years translating Japanese and Chinese women poets, as well as promoting the work of female poets in America and overseas.

Reviews

[Lawrence · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think this may be where I get off the Rexroth train. After reading what was only the most explicitly homophobic passage in the fourth of five poems collected here, "The Dragon and the Unicorn" (which there were, really, plenty of hints of earlier in the poem), I no longer found the rest of the book something I could enjoy. That might be giving short shrift to the concluding "The Heart's Garden, The Garden's Heart", which I could easily see myself having appreciated in a different context, but, as it was, by that point I'd already lost too much respect for Rexroth to pay attention.

Looking back, too, I realized homophobia wasn't the only problem I had with "The Dragon and the Unicorn", which takes up more than half of the book. There's the matter of Rexroth's repeated focus on prostitutes in a poem dedicated to his wife, Marthe; there's the matter of Marthe's barely registering as a presence in the poem though she seems to be accompanying him for most of its narrative, despite his insistence throughout that love consists of experiencing the beloved directly as a subject; and there's his tendency to judge, swiftly, uncompromisingly and often quite harshly, what seems like every manifestation of culture he comes across during their peregrinations through Europe. It's a far cry from the experience of reality directly as that-which-is, an aesthetic I used to associate strongly with Rexroth's poetry.

The three stars I'm giving this book are mainly for "The Phoenix and the Tortoise", which expresses a mystical political vision I'd probably like to believe in myself, and the jaw-dropping "The Homestead Called Damascus", which Rexroth wrote as a teenager and shows every sign of poetic maturity. Despite its occasional disjointedness putting me in mind of something like Michael Keith's Not a Wake, and despite the hints it gives, made explicit in "The Dragon and the Unicorn", of Rexroth's seeming to be interested in women exclusively as sexualized beings, "The Homestead Called Damascus" is now my prime example of the existence of poetic prodigies.

[Andrew Guthrie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I became interested in Rexroth slowly, slowly over a lifetime . . . I had seen him read in San Francisco in the late 1970s (more about that later), but hardly know then what I know now. And then I read his short, sardonic poem “The Value of Education” (or something like that) in a compilation, about a slightly disheveled poet in tattered robe drinking hot white wine and drawing naughty pictures in the margins of his book. Later I learned of his noteworthy monastic spiritual inclinations and anarchistic political activities. I started looking for more of his poetry.

I first found a book of his essays (“Assays”) and was impressed with his take on race in America, the lyrics of native American song, if a little put off by his overly surefooted erudite opinions. I eventually found these longer poems in the outstanding Strand Bookstore in New York City in late September 2017, used, going for US$15.

In the introduction to the longer poems he states that the first long poem (“The Homestead Called Damascus”) was written in his preconscious twenties, as I say, erudite; a narrative poem about two friends, romantic attachments, philosophical musings. Fairly easy going, engaging, full of sensual wit and inevitable melancholy.

The going gets rougher in the next couple of long poems . . . just check the title of one of them: “A Prolegomenon to a Theodicy”. Highly abstract. I easily comprehend the shift of influences. Sure, I gave it a go, but felt no compunction to continue.

In the longest poem, “The Dragon and the Unicorn”, one of Rexroth’s better known works, he again shifts into the more reader-friendly narrative mode, which is effectively broken up by philosophical interludes, mainly about how the individual manifests love as the purest expression of the cosmos which strips away any need for knowledge (did I get that right?) . . . otherwise the narrative recounts his long tramps and bicycle rides through Europe with fascinating, deftly conveyed anecdotes about food, taverns, farmers, weather and any specific region’s sex workers (among other things).

Rexroth was associated with the Beat poets being a long time resident of San Francisco and through having come into contact with Ginsburg et al. But he most decidedly disassociated himself, appropriately, from the term while not disassociating himself from the actual people. One of the last poems in this book is dedicated to Gary Snyder.

But it easy to work up the true circumstances of his poetry, influences like (or at least taking into account) Pound and Surrealism as well as Carl Sandburg and haiku. Please enjoy this book . . .

Here’s what happened when I saw him in the late 1970s:

Rexroth

A teenager (at the end of my teens, at the end of my coins)
I took a bus across the Bay Bridge
from Berkeley to San Francisco.
I counted my coins.
I went to a Kenneth Rexroth reading
that I-should-have-known charged
admission.
I was adventurous.
I spent all my coins, came up short for the return trip, entered the museum,
attended a Rexroth reading, a well known poet,
the San Francisco Renaissance,
a worldly famous obscure poet at a paid-for reading in a hardly-full venue,
an audience that good naturedly parried with the poet.

And all during the reading I kept asking myself, “How will I get home?”
My whole life different if I asked (during the Q and A)
“Can someone give me a ride home?”
I choose anonymity,
begging coins at the dingy bus stop, the beat bus depot,
frightening a woman until she eased into my passive request and handed over
twenty five cents.

All cities need something between dingy and fancy, not all sweet, not all decrepit.
The young poet needs to request a ride from a stranger,
beg coins at the bus depot
so he can help Rexroth
pay his bills.
All cities can do without extreme luxury or extreme deprivation,
landing somewhere
in between.
Famous poets obscure enough to take the bus
a ratty sedan, the audience who will go about their business somewhere between excess and survival.

[Joe Imwalle · Rating 4 out of 5]

I mostly read these long poems to and from Ireland on the 10 hour flight. The poems are long travel poems with great descriptions of nature, food, architecture, wine, and people. Intermixed is stanzas of philosophy. I’m increasingly a Rexroth fan.

[Hannah Knight · Rating 2 out of 5]

I think the poems could've had better word choice. I like more of Shakespeare or romantic poems. Some of the poems are fairly long.

[Jay Callahan · Rating 5 out of 5]

The earlier poems are experimental (still good!), but the later ones are unsurpassed.